


How Shiratorizawa Became the Meme Team

by Crows_Imagine



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: #StopShirabu'sSuffering2K18, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 17:46:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15296748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crows_Imagine/pseuds/Crows_Imagine
Summary: Shirabu slowly drops to his knees, one hand loosely clenching the net. “Please no,” he whispers to himself, eyes wide in horror. Heart racing, he takes heavy breathes to calm himself. It doesn’t work. “Please don’t tell me that happened-” he gasps. Murmurs run through the crowd, unsure if this truly occurred, but Shirabu tunes them out. “Please.”





	How Shiratorizawa Became the Meme Team

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is inspired by conversations from my Discord home server about this particular meme.

Shirabu doesn’t expect volleyball to be a source of his suffering.

Yes, he’ll be sore countless times, but he doesn’t consider that suffering. He knows playing almost any sport that would happy and he doesn’t mind- it’d be hypocritical to be aware of the sport’s consequence yet complain of tired muscles.

No, he doesn’t expect volleyball to cause him personal suffering. While some of his teammates are bothersome at times, he’s grown fond of them and all their weird habits and tendencies (don’t tell anyone of them, though).

He especially doesn’t expect his suffering to occur during a match, yet here he is.

Suffering.

The suffering pops up without any warning:

The beginning of the practice match begins and all the players on the court terminate their chatter as Ushijima holds the ball in his hands. Shirabu pays no heed and only waists for the ref’s whistle so the game may commence.

“Wakatoshi, remember what I taught you~!” Tendou says from beside Shirabu. The setter turns puzzled at his words. What would he be able to teach Ushijima about serving? It’s not like he’s a pinch server or extraordinary good at serving.

“Of course,” Ushijima replies curtly, just in time for the ref’s whistle.

Shirabu doesn’t face Ushijima. After all, why should he? Everyone knows what the next action will be and he needs to focus on their opponent’s receive. He expects nothing out of the ordinary.

Yet something peculiar happens. Something Shirabu would’ve never suspected to occur in any of his volleyball career.

He stares at the other team’s back row, waiting for someone to receive Ushijima’s serve when he hears his senpai’s statement: “Yeet!”

The ball flies over the net and no one of the opposing team receives it due to their utter bewilderment and shock. Shiratorizawa’s team is off worse.

Tendou proudly cries, unable to stand and instead finds a new home on the polished court floor. Semi from the sidelines has an open jaw, disbelieving what occurred. Ōhira looks back and forth between Tendou and Ushijima, unsure whether he’s supposed to be congratulatory or disappointed. 

“Did I mispronounce yeet, Tendou?” Ushijima asks, looking unconcerned about the scene laid before him, despite it being all his doing.

“Not at all~” Tendou assures Ushijima, waving a hand from his position on the court floor.

Yamagata smirks, bent over and resting his hands on his knees. “That got the job done,” he observes. The opposing team slowly shakes themselves out of surprise. “Don’t mind, don’t mind! We’ll get the next one!”

Shirabu slowly drops to his knees, one hand loosely clenching the net. “Please no,” he whispers to himself, eyes wide in horror. Heart racing, he takes heavy breathes to calm himself. It doesn’t work. “Please don’t tell me that happened-” he gasps. Murmurs run through the crowd, unsure if this truly occurred, but Shirabu tunes them out. “Please.”

“We’re in the middle of a game!” Washijō snaps, anger clear through his voice and face.

No player pays attention to him. Goshiki bounces around, inspired by the ace’s new move. “That was so cool!” he rambles, stars practically radiating from his eyes. “Can that be our new catchphrase?”

“Of course,” Tendou purrs as he sits up. He wipes his tears and sighs contentedly. “Wakatoshi, you are amazing.”

“I am one of the top 3 aces in the country,” is the response.

Tendou laughs. “Oh Wakatoshi~” He Ushijima’s offered hand and pulls himself off the floor.

Shirabu curls into a ball. “Please leave me here,” he moans.

“Shirabu-kun, we have a game~” Tendou coos, hands on his hips. He doesn’t look up but feels the Guess Monster’s piercing eyes.

“Leave me here,” Shirabu groans, shutting his eyes. “I can’t go forward.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Tendou claims and Shirabu spares enough energy to raise a hand and deliver the bird. “You’re the one who taught Ushijima-san how to ‘yeet,’” he rebounds.

“It worked out great!” Tendou replies, pride emitting off his person. “You can’t deny that.”

Shirabu curls tighter into a ball, head between his hands. “I can’t-”

“Exactly, you can’t!”

“I can’t- go on-”

By this time, Semi finally made his way onto the court. “Tendou, Ushijima,” he begins, taking a long gaze at Shirabu. “You broke our kouhai.”  
~~  
Shiratorizawa’s next practice doesn’t feel out of the ordinary in the beginning. Like usual, they run laps around the court (not outside due to suddenly cold weather and Washijō doesn’t care to change into warm clothes to supervise them) and stretch.

Ushijima orders them to begin practicing their spikes with two lines, one run by each setter. Semi and Shirabu stand meters apart on the same side of the net. The team is split and in one of the lines, sans for two first years who toss balls to their senpai.

Without any real thought, Shirabu sets each ball up for each teammate to spike. Nothing out of the ordinary, it’s his position. He just focuses on the tosses, ignoring the mindless chatter of waiting players. Semi does the same, concentrating on the plays, and it’s not until the middle of the first group that the monstrosity begins.

“YEET!”

Shirabu freezes. Windows to the soul full of fear, he snaps his head in the direction of Goshiki. The first year throwing balls almost hits his senpai in the head with a ball, but luckily Shirabu too distracted to notice.

“Just like that, Tsutomu!” Tendou cheers, clapping. He ruffles Goshiki’s hair. “Good, good!”

“Nice kill,” Semi says in regards to Goshiki’s spike, not thinking anything of Goshiki’s ‘yeet,’ the traitor.

He can’t let this go on. “Are we ignoring the disgusting words emitted from Goshiki’s mouth?” Shirabu fumes, curling his tapped fingers.

The team bursts into whispers before ceasing their words, noticing their captain stepping in the middle of the two lines.

“I’ll remind the team that it was decided after my use of ‘yeet’ in our most recent match, it became our new motto,” Ushijima calmly says. Everyone blinks.

“Really?” Ōhira checks, puzzled. “I thought that was a fluke, a spur of the moment joke.”

“Hell yeah,” Yamagata grins. “This is great.”

“It distracts the opposing teams, even for a moment, and unites our team,” Ushijima continues.

“Never doubt our Miracle Boy!” Tendou proudly says.

“I don’t know about the uniting part,” Kawanishi retorts, keeping his gaze on Shirabu as the setter crumbles onto the floor.

Never would Shirabu Kenjirou believe this would be his breaking point, but alas, he cracks under yeet’s force. “I shouldn’t have come to Shiratorizawa.” 

Ushijima pays no heed to Shirabu. “I think no matter what position and action you perform, yelling out ‘yeet’ will bring us closer together,” he simply says.

“Ushijima-senpai is so cool!” Goshiki awes, sparkling with excitement.

“Ushijima has a point,” Semi begrudgingly admits. “It worked out nicely in our last match.”

The ace glances at Shirabu. He calls his name, kneeling down, and Shirabu slowly looks up. “Yes, Ushijima-san?”

“You look distressed. Should I yeet you a towel or water bottle?”

Shirabu screams.


End file.
